Girl at Home
by herotypes
Summary: When Taylor arrived at the party, she hadn't been expecting to find dozens of scantily clad celebrities and even more scantily clad dancers. Men wore suits as usual, although many parts of their attire were missing. Ties, jackets, shoes, you name it. I wonder where those got to, she thought wryly. It was a hazy blur of fake smiles, until she saw, well, him.
1. Not That Girl

Not That Girl

When Taylor arrived at the party, she hadn't been expecting to find dozens of scantily clad celebrities and even more scantily clad dancers. Men wore suits as usual, although many parts of their attire were missing. Ties, jackets, shoes, you name it. _I wonder where those got to_, she thought wryly. It was an awards show after party, something many people would've given anything for an invitation to, but to Taylor it was nothing but another hazy blur of faces and fake smiles*. The other attendees smiled and greeted Taylor giddily, and she doubted they would remember anything the next morning.

One particular group caught her eye; a group of boys, most of them with girls sprawled out across their laps, sat in an enclave of furniture somehow excluded from the rest of the party. She recognized them, of course; everyone here was recognizable. It was the band that had won the X Factor a few years back… what was it? One Direction? One of the members sat on a love seat by himself, and when his eyes caught hers, he waved her over. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She was vaguely aware of the sound of her shoes clacking on the cement, carrying her toward the boy. He grinned, dimples appearing when he did.

"Taylor Swift, I presume?" He arched one eyebrow, his grin fading away to a much more mysterious smirk. Taylor smiled hesitantly, her eyes reflecting strobe lights from the dance floor. He was handsome, in a boyish way. He reminded her of someone from long ago, who had left her shattered and alone, desperately begging for someone -anyone- to tell her what she had done wrong. Immediately walls built themselves up around her heart, and she was determined to keep him away, just like everyone else. She realized she had been chewing on her bottom lip that whole time, and had yet to answer his question.

"Yes, that's me. I'm afraid your name has slipped my mind Mr.-" His eyes rounded out as his mouth formed an O. He laughed out loud, and she laughed nervously along with him. He looked back up at her after a moment and swallowed down his laughter. What had he been thinking, that she would be falling head over heels for him? She didn't even know his name. Surely someone like her had higher standards than someone like him.

"Styles," he finished for her, while he noticed that her bangs were just a little too long*. "Harry Edward Styles."

"That's a proud name, Harry Edward Styles," Taylor said, a hint of a smile just barely crossing her lovely features, although it didn't reach her eyes. Worry did, however, but she pushed it away. "What were you laughing at, Harry?" He smiled; clearly deciding he wasn't going to answer her question.

"Come on," he said, standing to his feet and walking towards the dance floor, "Come and dance with me." Taylor shook her head no hurriedly, but when he grabbed her wrist, she froze. Or, rather, burned. He let her go after a short second, but she could still see the marks where his fingers had wrapped around her wrist. He hadn't looked back at her since he let her go; the confident bastard was simply certain that she would follow him wherever he went. And, no matter what way she considered it, she came to the startling conclusion that he was right.

Harry Styles was a name that Taylor hoped she wouldn't have to hear again anytime soon. She was still petrified at the idea of anyone getting close to her, and she had a feeling that if she spent much more time with him, there wouldn't be any way to reverse the effects he had on her. He was ready to ruin her careful efforts to keep herself safe from hurt, and she'd be damned if she was going to let him.

Her iPhone chirped cheerfully, and she looked down at it. _New message from unknown number_.

_Is your heart taken?_

_Is there somebody else on your mind?_

_I'm so sorry, I'm so confused_

_Just tell me, am I out of time?_

_Is your heart breaking?_

_How do you feel about me now?_

_I can't believe I let you walk away_

_When, when I should have kissed you._

She swallowed the knot in her throat, and sent back, _who the hell gave you my number? _When the little white box beeped again, she fished it out of her pocket and read the response. _Who is this? _read the text.

Taylor: Do you just send song lyrics to random people?

Unknown: No, but I thought the girl I was sending them to would

appreciate them. Especially coming from me.

Taylor: I guess I'm not that girl.

Unknown: Guess not.

She looked down and breathed out slowly, trying to pretend she didn't feel the heartache that was growing stronger by the minute. Tears threatened, and she closed her eyes. Getting hurt in front of millions of people wasn't something she looked forward to, and it never failed to happen. It wouldn't this time either. Taylor always got hurt.

She curled up on her couch, in her living room, in her house. See, she told herself, you're doing just fine on your own. Meredith's paws padded across the kitchen floor as she made her way to Taylor. She leapt up onto the sofa and snuggled against Taylor's stomach. Taylor kissed the cat on the nose, and turned Grey's Anatomy on. It felt like a perfect day for reruns and pretending that Harry Styles didn't exist.

* * *

*Often I use Taylor's songs to decide what emotions I think she feels toward certain things. In this particular instance, the song was Enchanted, from her album Speak Now.

*Referring to her side bangs.

*This is set in late 2011, prior to Harry and Taylor's semi-public relationship in 2012. Things in this story are purely fictional, and they may or may not go along with actual events that happened. I don't know much about 1D, but I'm doing my best, and so far, I like it.


	2. Begin Again

Begin Again

Harry stared down at his shoes, not paying any mind to the rest of his mates laughing around him. Taylor hadn't received that message very well at all. He couldn't stop thinking about her words: "I guess I'm not that girl." They had seared their way into his mind, and whenever he thought of Taylor's perfectly rounded red lips, those words flashed through his mind like a warning sign. _Not interested_. She may have well have tattooed those words on his forehead. No girl had ever rejected him as forcefully as she had. Ever. _Just forget her, Harry_, he scolded himself, _she's just a girl_. He had tried his best; in fact, he was seeing a girl on the side, although he didn't really care much for her. Louis stared at him imploringly. "What do you think, Harry?" Harry coughed a little, pretending to clear his throat.

"About, ah, what, exactly?" Niall leapt up and grinned triumphantly.

"I told you all he hasn't heard a word we've been saying." His grin got wider and spread from ear to ear. "I can only guess what –I mean, who- he was thinking about." Harry rolled his eyes.

"You were saying, Lou?" Harry asked, annoyed with Niall's implication, no matter how true it might be. Louis opened his mouth to respond.

"We were—"

"You would know if you hadn't been so busy daydreaming about Tayl—" Niall interrupted.

"SHUT UP, NIALL!" Harry frowned when he saw Niall's wounded and shell-shocked expression. "I'm sorry, mate. It's just-That's enough." He paused. "Please. I just can't talk about this right now."

* * *

Taylor stood alone in her kitchen, the smell of baking cookies heavy in the air. Meredith was asleep in her bed, next to a small heater. Taylor occasionally thought of green eyes, and curly hair, before cutting herself short. It was senseless. She had already ruined any chance there was for anything to happen.

The last time she had spent this much time thinking about someone was in December a few years back. She had never had such a beautiful and timeless romance as she had with that boy from Michigan, but just as she had time and time again, she had let fear scare her off. She had hurt him, and she still felt that no apology would ever be enough. She had spent months thinking about his smile, days spent in the passenger seat watching him laugh, and the dark December night when she had left him alone. It had been the coldest winter she had ever experienced, because, not only was it cold outside, but she was freezing inside.

_ Harry's number is still in my phone_, Taylor thought longingly, desperately needing to fix that which she had broken. She saw it on the counter, plugged in to the charger, and reached for it, not sure exactly what her intentions were. Just before her fingers brushed the surface of the phone, an alarm sounded. Taylor screamed at first, and Meredith started out of her sleep. _It's just the oven, idiot_. Her breathing steadied, and she started laughing hysterically. _I think I'm losing my mind, and it might be a good thing_. When she had finally calmed down, she slipped on an oven mitt and pulled the cookies out of the oven. They smelled delicious, which wasn't surprising. She returned to her phone and contemplated what she could say.

Taylor: Where are you? Can we talk?

Her phone rang less than a minute later. "Hello?"

"Taylor?" Taylor thought his voice sounded even better on the phone, if that was even possible.

"Harry." Just his name sent a storm cloud of unwanted emotions rolling over her. The warmth of something that could easily become something more was spreading, and Taylor was unable to stop it. "Harry, I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean for—I just, I'm so scared of getting hurt, and sometimes I forget that not everyone wants to hurt me, and—" and then the words were flying out. "The media makes things so hard, and I… I'm sorry. I'm just really sorry." She sighed, knowing there was nothing else she could do. This was his choice, not hers.

Harry stared at his shoes again, not pleased that he isn't sure what to do. Harry Styles _always_ knows what to do. "Taylor," he sighed, surrendering to his emotions. "I want to see you. Soon. Where are you now?"

"Nashville, of course." She paused thoughtfully. "I'll be in New York next week. You will be too, right? I remember you telling me about it that first night." Harry grinned.

"Yes, you're right, you brilliant girl. I can't believe you remember that." Harry wouldn't be able to believe half the things that Taylor remembered about that night. "I'll text you later, and we'll figure out where to meet."

* * *

The next six days passed incredibly slowly for Harry and Taylor both. He was often caught staring off into space, during tour rehearsal, late night games with his friends, even on a date with the other girl, the one named Cara. Taylor, however, spent most of her time strumming chords on a guitar, and scribbling down lyrics. "This is a state of grace, this is the golden age of something good, and right, and real." Harry was often on her mind, his green eyes and that dimpled smile. It was really happening. Things were about to begin again.


	3. Red Lipstick

Red Lipstick

When Harry had suggested another party, Taylor had been too thrilled to see him again to object. He was going to pick her up at her hotel in two hours. Only two more hours before they were together again. Taylor wasn't naïve like people thought, she knew what they were saying about her, about her and Harry. Contrary to the norm, this time Taylor didn't care. The gossip had started when they'd been seen together at the party, although nothing had happened and no pictures had been released, people were speculating that they were dating. Which, they were, weren't they?

Taylor was appearing on a television show the next day, so her makeup team was also in The City. She didn't hesitate for a second to call them and beg them to fix her up. When they arrived, they didn't waste much time for chitchat, and got right to work. Taylor's hair was pried out of the floppy bun it had been in all day, and spritzed with heat protection. "Straight, right, Taylor?" The ringleader, Mazie, looked at her with bright caramel colored eyes. Taylor pursed her lips for a moment as she thought.

"Yes, I think so, Mazie. Maybe put a little bit of curl on the ends? I think it looks so classy like that. Nineteen sixties esque." She smiled at the thought of pearls, and Jackie O. Taylor thought that straight hair was elegant, and the best for when she was trying to impress someone.

They gave Taylor a bold smoky eye, along with cat eyeliner to give her a more sweet, feminine look. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she felt like something was missing, but she didn't know what. She looked beautiful of course, if she was being honest with herself, but something felt off. The crew gave Taylor air kisses, as not to smudge their masterpiece, and then left in a blur of glitter and Victoria's secret perfume.

Taylor's dress was red, one shouldered, and gorgeous. As she slipped it on, she reveled in the feel of the silk brushing against her legs. A sparkly black clutch lay on her dresser. Her eyebrows pinched together.

Compliments of the team.

Love, love, love, Mazie.

Taylor smiled at Mazie's kind thoughtfulness. The clutch had to be worth hundreds of dollars, although, Mazie's family was pretty well off, and Taylor doubted the few hundred dollars would be missed. The clutch felt right in her hand, so she decided to take it along with her, slipping her phone in it as she walked over to the couch by the hotel room door to wait for Harry.

When the knock sounded against the door, Taylor had been thrilled to open the door, expecting to see Harry's smiling face. That was why, when she flung open the door, a huge grin on her face, a smile meant to greet Harry, and was met by a brawny security guard dressed in black, her face fell. "Mr. Styles is waiting for you downstairs, Miss. He told me to tell you that he thought 'That it'd be better for you, since you aren't very close to the paparazzi'." Taylor smiled, just a little, still disappointed Harry hadn't come to greet her, but she told herself that he was just trying to be thoughtful. "I can take you down now, if you'd like." The security offered, and Taylor nodded, threading her arm into his.

Harry's heart was thrumming in his chest. He had wanted dearly to be the first to see Taylor tonight, not some stupid security guard, but he had been reminded that he was actually dating another girl, and he had to be careful around the media, at least until he broke things off with Cara. When the cameras started flashing outside, he started out of his reverie, and realized that Taylor must have just gotten out of the hotel. He turned his head to face his window, so that when Taylor opened her door, his face could not be seen. Someone opened the door, and he was aware of someone sitting beside him. He could practically feel Taylor's curiosity, but he didn't turn around until he heard her shut the door.

"Harry? What're you doing? Why won't you look at me?" He turned to face her, a wide smile on his face.

"I was afraid if I looked at you, you might disappear." Taylor smiled, and reached out to touch his face, her hand cupping his cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere. I promise." Harry's eyes met hers, and his breath caught, because in the depths of her blue eyes, he saw that she wanted the same thing he did. So he kissed her.

Taylor had imagined what this moment might be like, this kiss. She never could have imagined how electric it would be, how frantic and desperate and craving. His hand had moved to the small of her waist, his body pressing on to hers. Things were progressing quickly, and a warning was going off in Taylor's mind. Suddenly the car slammed on brakes, jerking Harry off of Taylor and into the floorboard. Taylor laughed so hard that she snorted, and Harry pretended to be annoyed, before failing and laughing along with her. She was just so adorable when she laughed that he couldn't help it. He scrambled up off the floor and planted one more sweet kiss on her lips. "Buckle up, Harry Edward Styles. We need you safe." A joking smile spread across her lips. Harry frowned thoughtfully.

"No red lipstick tonight?" he said. "I guess it might've been a good thing since, you know—" he gestured around his mouth, where just a few minutes before her lips had been pressed. _Lipstick_! That's what had been missing when she was looking at herself in the mirror. Her trademark red lipstick made her whole appearance change. She remembered the black clutch Mazie had given her, and wondered if the thoughtful makeup artist had also included some touch up supplies in there. When she opened it, she wasn't surprised to find a shiny tube of scarlet lipstick. She waved in front of Harry's face with a flirty smile.

"Found it! Guess the kissing won't be a problem for the rest of the night," she teased lightly. Harry made a sound of displeasure, and Taylor giggled. He snatched the tube from her hand and uncapped it. Taylor looked at him curiously. He took his hand and held her chin steady, and spread the lipstick against her lips. When he pulled her away, she pressed her lips together, and rubbed them against each other.

"Perfect," Harry said, his voice a little unsteady. Taylor blinked. Before she could respond, the car slowed to a stop. "We're here." Harry stepped out of the car, turning back to offer Taylor his hand. "M'lady," he said with a playful smirk. Taylor took a deep breath and touched her hand to his.

"Let's go."


End file.
